"Spike? Are we there yet?" Buffy mumbled as she slowly came awake. Prying her
heavy eyes open, the first thing she saw was a window.
A window with sun streaming through it.
Sitting up straight, the Slayer looked wildly around her, taking in the wide
seats, the other passengers and, finally, the long, leather duster on her lap.
She fingered the soft material, her face turning from anxious to sad as the
tears welled up in her eyes.
"Good morning, Ms. Summers," a stewardess said, stopping by seat number three
where Buffy was located. "Can I get you anything?"
"Where is…did you see the man I was with?" Buffy asked her. "Kinda tall,
white blond hair?"
The stewardess smiled softly. "I’m sorry, but he stayed in Brazil."
Buffy pressed her lips together and nodded. "Thanks."
"If you need anything, press the call button. There are headphones in the
pocket in front of you if you’d like to listen to music. And any phone calls
you’d like to make are free."
Buffy nodded again, and turned to the window as the stewardess moved off. She
took a deep, unsteady breath, bringing the familiar coat up around her neck, and
let the tears fall. They hit the leather without any noise, rolling down its
surface as if it were crying, as well. *You knew it wouldn’t work,* she thought
to herself, her eyes not seeing the white clouds that billowed under the plane
like a sea of fluff. *He’s a vampire, you’re the Slayer, end of story.*
Shakily, she leaned forward to pull out the headphones, plugging them into
the slot on her armrest. Putting them over her ears, Buffy pressed the different
channel buttons until she found some soft music. She leaned back on the seat and
closed her eyes.
Looking back on the memory of the dance we shared ‘neath the stars above.
For a moment, all the world was right.
How could I have known that you’d ever say good-bye.
Buffy pictured him in the moonlight the first night at the pool. It had
caressed his pale skin, emphasizing his taut muscles, the leanness of his form.
The shadows had deepened in his cheeks, making him all the more beautiful, the
light from the moon glinting off his platinum blond hair. It was if he stepped
out of a museum, carved from the perfect white marble, as if each detail were
finely etched by Michelangelo himself.
And now, I’m glad I didn’t know
the way it all would end,
the way it all would go.
She remembered the way he had kissed her so tenderly the first time, his
lips meeting hers hesitantly, wary, ready to stop at the slightest protest. They
were cool, soft, yet strong as the kiss deepened slightly. Her breath had caught
in her throat, her heart skipping a beat as his tongue brushed her lower lip,
asking for permission. When she responded, she had inhaled deeply, and the pure
maleness of his scent made her insides tighten, her heart speed up.
Our lives are better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain,
but I’d of had to miss the dance.
His touch had been gentle yet possessive, tender yet strong as he
caressed her skin. His cool fingers had moved over her, sending shivers along
her spine. But when his eyes traced the same path as his hand, her entire body
tensed with anticipation, with excitement, with desire.
Holding you, I held everything.
For a moment, wasn’t I the king?
It had been the single, most earth-shattering moment of her life when he
joined with her, his hard shaft filling her, moving in her. Her body felt like
it was on fire, each nerve ending crackling with energy begging for release.
Even in her limited experience, she had known that was how it was meant to be,
that was what the books wrote of, that was what the higher powers intended when
man and woman were created.
But if I’d only known how the king would fall.
Hey, who’s to say?
You know I might have changed it all.
When his blue eyes met hers, they burned with an intensity that shook her
at the core, sending her crashing over the edge. Her whole body felt as though
she’d dove into a freezing lake on a scorching day. Starbursts of colors flew
behind her eyes as she squeezed them tightly shut, her muscles quivering, her
body melting into his. And when he gasped her name, her real name, as he joined
her in the abyss, it made her heart pound so hard she had been afraid it would
burst.
And now, I’m glad I didn’t know
the way it would end,
the way it all would go.
He had held her afterwards, his hand running lightly up and down her arm,
not wanting to break contact. They had crossed a line that day from mortal
enemies to something indefinable, something more than just lovers. It showed in
the way he had held her smaller hand in his while they walked, the way his voice
had shook when he saw the shack on top of the cliff, the way he possessed her
when they’d returned to the pool.
Our lives are better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain,
but I’d of had to miss the dance.
She remembered the panic in his voice when the skin ripped off her hand,
the way he called out her real name, descending to her side in an instant as if
he sprouted wings. She remembered the way he screamed at her, hateful things,
cutting to the heart of her insecurities. All to try and save her life. Then
afterwards, the way he had cleansed and bandaged her hands, despite the
bloodlust that had to have been screaming inside of him.
Yes my life,
it’s better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain…
The kiss on the small plane, what was to be their last kiss, touched her
soul, making her want to deny that he was a killer, that he was a demon, that it
was her sacred duty to destroy him. But he had taken the decision off of her
hands, making what would have been the hardest choice of her life, leaving her
with nothing but the memory of his touch, of his voice, of his cool lips on
hers…and his leather duster.
But I’d of had to miss the dance.
Buffy wiped the tears from her face, then removed the headphones. She
took a deep, shaky breath, picking up the air phone on the back of the seat and
dialing the familiar numbers. "The library please," she said into the receiver.
"Hello, Giles? I’m on my way home."